Who: Lilah Morgan and Wesley Wyndham-Pryce Where: Lilah's apartment When: Saturday night Ratings: Who even knows. May end up high. Will change as needed Status: Closed; In Progress
It was most likely a mistake, asking him over. Except she hadn't asked, she'd told him. And he could have said no, could have refused (should have, if we were honest with ourselves), but he hadn't. And now Wes was coming to see her. It wasn't the first time she'd seen him face to face since her arrival in Lawrence, of course. But each time was harder than she knew how to accept, and that bothered her.
Lilah was the first to admit she was an evil, heartless bitch, even to Wes. But Wes was still, she knew, the one person who would call her out on that...even if he only did it where she could see, and by not actually saying anything to her. She knew him well enough to understand the subtexts, the nuances, of every word he did or didn't choose to use. Wes was a master of silent disapproval...even when he knew she was right.
She had thought about staying casual, but had changed, instead, into a green silk blouse and a dark grey pencil skirt. The only concession to not being at work was the fact that she hadn't put any shoes on, and her hair was still a touch damp from her earlier shower. She stood at the window of her high rise apartment, looking in the direction of the carnival as she sipped from a small glass of whiskey, something she'd started doing a lot more lately. When the knock came, Lilah turned, then walked slowly to the door, trading the alcohol for a gun on the way. Pulling it open only far enough to erase the slack in the chain, she met Wes's eyes for a moment, then shut the door. Opening the drawer of a small side table, she placed the gun inside it, then slid the chain to one side, and pulled the door open again. Offering one of her trademark smiles, she stepped back so he could enter.